Too Late
by GCatsPjs
Summary: NotaOneshot- Post 'The Limey'
1. Too Late

His feet dragged slightly in the carpeted hallway, as he made his way toward the loft door. He flipped his keys in his hand and slipped it into the lock without so much as a second thought. Opening the door, he found all of the lights were dim, and the loft was filled with a simmering silence that seemed to ring in his ears. He tossed his keys onto the counter, and pulled the leather jacket from his shoulders, tossing it onto the back of the barstool. He stretched, letting out a quiet yawn, and when he turned, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the person standing in the doorway looking at him. The yawn dropped from his lungs immediately, and he made a slight startled sound. "Mother." He said, catching the look in her eyes as her eyebrows lifted, and her chin jutted out. "What are you doing up?"

"I was having trouble sleeping." She said, dropping her wary gaze as she shuffled into the kitchen. She pulled her robe tighter as she walked past her son. "You're just getting home, I see." She said, keeping her jaw tight. It was difficult not to hear the ring of judgment in her tone, for it echoed in his ears like a pounding drum.

"Yeah, I had a date with…"

"The stewardess," she nodded. "I know."

"Flight attendant," he corrected following his mother's form as she rolled her eyes and danced her head back and forth in a mocking way. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a container of orange juice. She held it up to Rick, and he shook his head. She then turned toward the cupboard to pull down a glass, she turned and set it down solidly on the counter.

"What about Kate?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow as she swirled the orange juice in the container before pulling off the top.

"What about her?"

"You're just giving up? Quitting?" Martha asked.

"Mother." Rick said, his tone held a bit of irritation.

"She was here earlier, looking for you." Martha said, staring at the glass as she poured it half full of orange juice. "Poor thing looked exhausted."

"Kate was here earlier?" Rick asked, leaning in a bit, his voice sounded almost desperate. "She knew I was going out."

"Maybe she was hoping you'd be having an early night." Martha shrugged. "I told her you were still out, so she left."

"Did she say anything else?" he asked, trying so hard not to sound desperate or worried.

"No. Though she did appear to be just a little bit tipsy." Martha said in a dramatic voice as she turned and put the orange juice back in the refrigerator. She turned to see Rick standing thoughtfully. "I told her she could stay if she wanted. I told her I'd call her a taxi if she needed one. She just mumbled something and left."

"And you saw her get a taxi?" he asked.

"No, I figured that she's a big girl, Richard. Why? Did something happen between the two of you?" Martha asked, tipping her head as she approached her son.

"No," he shook his head thoughtfully. "She wanted to talk. I told her I didn't have time. I don't know what she wanted." He said, pulling his phone from his pocket, there were no calls.

"You can't call her now, Richard. It's too late," his mother scolded.

"Too late?"

"In the evening, dear. She's probably home sleeping by now, it's practically morning," she said, gripping the cup in her hand, she brought it to her lips and watched her son curiously as she sipped. "Richard?" He looked to her, lifting an eyebrow, his eyes clouded by concern. "She's a big girl, sweetheart. I'm sure it was nothing. Besides, you've moved on."

Rick nodded, watching his mother's eyes, he couldn't help but read in them that she wasn't quite convinced. "Goodnight, Mother."

"Goodnight." She said with a wistful sigh. "It's time to wake up, Richard!" She said, strutting off toward the stairs, he watched her quick glance back to him, and quickly disappeared from view.

Rick sighed and turned, pulling himself onto the barstool he closed his eyes. He tried to block the image from his mind, but all he could see were her dark eyes staring at him. There was something in her gaze that he had only seen there on one or two occasions.

Fear.

And he had left.

Maybe it was too late.

* * *

><p>Kate continued walking through the darkened streets of the city. The uneven steps of inebriation had slowly turned into steps of exhaustion. She could almost see the light of morning in the distance starting to make its presence known. She wondered what time it was. She wondered where she was. She made her way to a bench, settling her body onto the wooden slats, she focused her attention on the sky. She let the time pass by her, slowly and without pause.<p>

As the sky lit up above her, the heavy weight on her shoulders seemed to lift. She felt abandoned and alone. Even though she was surrounded by the millions of people that lived in the buildings surrounding her, she felt alone. She closed her eyes and felt the cool wind brush across her cheek. It reminded her that she was still alive. It reminded her that a new day was beginning. It reminded her that she still had strength to fight the fear deep in her heart. She had the strength to pursue the one thing that seemed anomalous until that very moment.

Strength.

She had so much left.

And she prayed that it wasn't too late.


	2. I Remember

His head snapped up at the sound of a loud slamming sound, as he felt the wheels of his chair slide him forward. He was facing the wall for a moment, a dazed cloud surrounding him, and then nothing. His chair turned toward the door, and his eyes widened at the rapidly approaching figure of his partner. She stopped advancing once his eyes were on her, and his jaw dropped just slightly.

"Alright, just wipe the look off your face," she snapped. "And the drool off your chin."

Rick swiped his chin with the back of his hand, he tipped back when she leaned in over her desk. "Beckett?" he grumbled.

"I want to know what your problem is."

"What time is it?" He asked, looking around, his eyes a bit blurry. His eyes flicked to the computer screen, and the time pushed its way into his mind. "How did you get in?"

"Your mother."

"Oh."

The silence stood between them and seemed to stall everything, and she still stood leaning over his desk. He kept his eyes on anything he could without forcing himself to look into her face, but knew that it was inevitable. Finally, he let his eyes land on her dark, soulful windows, and his focus fell deep into their depths.

"I asked you a question," she said. Her breath seemed to pull in slowly through her nostrils, and the wait for his reply kept it deep in her lungs for several moments.

"My problem?"

"Yes."

"I don't have a problem," he replied with an indignant tone, turning his chair around, he put his back to her, and stepped toward the book case. His finger rolled over the invisible dust on the shelf, and he mentally ran through the titles of his books in his mind. It was an activity that he had started a while ago, a way to distance himself from the realities that bothered him. He jumped at the sound of her palm slapping his desk, and turned to see an angry fire in her eyes.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you." He said, still looking down at her hand on his desk, then looking back up into her eyes. He immediately knew that was the wrong answer. "I'm just busy."

"Busy." She inhaled through her nose, and nodded her head. She was formulating a response and he could see that she was trying very hard not to allow her emotions to get the best of her. She lifted her hand from the desk, and for a moment he could see a sliver of something in her eyes that made him stop.

Was it regret? Guilt?

Was it something completely different?

"Kate, I don't know what you want. You know who I am. You know that I'm a very popular guy with the ladies. So sometimes… yeah, I shirk my responsibilities so that I can have a good time. So what?"

The tone of his voice was mocking and plastic. His eyes were narrowed in an almost challenging way, and it was making her stomach twist in an agonizing knot with each breath. "That's not who you are, Castle. That's not the person that I know, the person that I…" she stopped herself but didn't know why, and as she caught her breath, he snapped at her, anger flaring in his own eyes.

"That you what? That you let tag along with you? That you deal with? That you put up with? Huh?" He asked, his voice becoming lower, but more fierce, his eyes narrowing in anger. He sounded angry, defensive.

"What are you talking about, Castle?" She sounded confused, angry. "I feel like I'm on the outside of some inside joke. What is going on with you? Is it Alexis? Are you still worried about her being at the morgue? Do you want me to tell Lainey to…"

"No," he said shortly. "This isn't about Alexis."

"Then what is it about? Because you're really starting to piss me off here. Why are you so angry at me? Is it something that I did? Is it something that I said?"

"No!" he shouted. "It's about what you didn't say." He said, lowering his voice. "It's about what you didn't do, Kate." He said, her name coming out like a strangled cry.

"What do you mean? Stop being so damned cryptic, and just tell me why I feel like you're doing all of this to get back at me for something!"

"It doesn't matter," he replied not angrily, but truthfully. "The damage is already done. The trust has been broken." He paused. "I don't think we should be partners anymore, Kate."

A swirl of emotion nearly knocked her over, and her cheeks burned with a mix of anger and confusion. She had no words to answer his, and she could feel her strength quickly diminishing. Her intent was to end this conversation with an answer, and perhaps a stronger bond in their partnership, not a wider chasm between them. "Castle, just tell me what the hell you're talking about!" She didn't care that she was shouting now, she just wanted answers.

"You know what you did, Kate. You know that you have been keeping secrets, lying to me." He paused when he saw her eyebrow lift, her head shake with confusion. "After you were shot. You remembered." He could see the look of surprise in her eyes, and the way she swallowed her next reply. "You remembered everything, Kate. I heard you during the interrogation a couple of weeks ago when you told the perp."

"Castle, that's not what…"

"Are you saying that you don't remember?" he asked, looking directly into her eyes. "Because if you can tell me right now that you don't remember. If you can tell me that you were just using that as a line to get the suspect to talk… If you can look me in the eye and say that you don't have any idea what I'm talking about, I will believe you. I'll believe you, and this argument can end right now."

This moment seemed surreal to her, and oddly, she didn't feel as nervous as she thought she might. She expected maybe her mouth to become dry, or her voice to tremble. Instead, she looked him directly in the eyes and nodded slightly. "I do remember." She paused. "I remember everything."


	3. A Call For Order

Her words echoed in his head, and he felt the air sucked out of his lungs as if he had been punched. It was almost as bad as hearing it from her when she didn't know he was there, if only because she was saying it directly to him now. He didn't know what to say, or how to react, and at this point he didn't even know if he was angry. The man who always had something to say about everything, said nothing.

He was speechless.

Kate was finding it very difficult to read him suddenly, and she watched him sit back in his chair and stare back at her darkly. She had knocked the wind out of him with her admission, and she awaited its backlash. "I couldn't tell you, Castle," she whispered. Her tongue seemed faster than her brain. "I couldn't tell you, because I needed to heal."

"I could have helped you." His reply was a whisper so soft, she hardly could make out his words.

"You did help me," she replied. "You saved my life. You let me have time. That was enough, then."

"That was enough?" He stated haughtily. "That was enough?" His voice was rising in volume, but lowering in tone.

"Castle, I was on the ground bleeding to death. You were under duress. You never explained yourself. What was I supposed to think? And when you did have the chance to talk to me about it, you backed off."

"Because you couldn't remember, Kate." He lowered his voice and glared across at her. "I thought you couldn't remember." He mumbled.

"And what do you suppose would have happened if I had told you that I remembered, Rick? I was in a relationship at the time, I was… I had just been shot by a sniper. The captain was dead… tied up in this scandal that would bring the entire precinct to its knees. Did you expect everything to just fall into place because I acknowledged what you said?"

"I… I don't know," he stammered. His cockiness was starting to diminish. "No, I just…"

"Why didn't you say something when you came to the hospital? Why didn't you tell me what you said?"

"I… I didn't… I didn't want you do reject me."

"So instead of being rejected, you just pretend it never happened. Then you learn from an interrogation that I remembered all along?" Kate's tone was incredulous, growing angrier with each word. "But instead of confronting me about it, you decided to just act out? Knowingly being a jackass… making me feel like I did something wrong without any sort of explanation." She glared angry across his desk at him. "You wanted your answer for why I didn't say anything, Castle… you got it right there." She poked his desk with her long index finger. "You and I cannot have an adult relationship, until we can have an adult conversation… and we won't be having an adult conversation until you can start acting like an adult. It's time for you to grow up, Castle. It's time for you to put your toys away and grow some balls."

"Kate, I…"

"No." She said, keeping her eyes on him as he pulled his chair out and started to stand up. "Unless you can muster the courage to say how you feel when I'm not half dead. Unless you can prove to me that what you are saying is what you feel, and not just what you want… then we can have this conversation." She said, backing up toward the door.

"Kate, just wait a second..." Castle said, watching her turn toward the door, he reached his hand out, but didn't take a step toward her. She glanced to him, and he was at a loss for words. She waited for a beat, and then two but there were still no words to erupt from his lips. She nodded her head then, and turned, stepping out of his office quietly, she closed the door behind her.


End file.
